The Sign of 12
by squirrelagent007
Summary: When academy girls start vanishing, Sherlock's niece and her Dhampir butler delve headfirst into the investigation. They soon find unnerving ciphers, riddles, cryptograms-the case entangling with Sherlock's in Paris. To complicate matters as the duo work in tandem, a precarious attraction ensues, but they must work together to navigate a dangerous web of deception and machinations
1. The Game is Afoot

Ch 1: The Game is Afoot

* * *

I imagined other young ladies seldom found themselves in such a questionable state –crawling in the shadows of a deserted showroom like some marauder. But I, being a Holmes, welcomed these singular predicaments.

Crouching under a counter, I swiped my black bangs aside and held up the anonymous telegram wired to Scotland Yard, the words lit by a sliver of moonlight.

'YFITOZIB NRWMRTSG. MLGGRMTSZN QVDVOVIH'

Given the Yard's usual state of incompetence, it hardly came as a surprise they had failed to decipher so simple a message, and with Uncle Sherlock attending to a case at the Royal Louvre Museum in Paris, the Yard turned to me as a last resort.

It wasn't difficult to see the message in the telegram formed a simple substitution cipher of reversed alphabets: A's replaced Z's, B's replaced Y's, C's with X's, and so forth. The decoded message read:

'BURGLARY MIDNIGHT. NOTTINGHAM JEWELERS'

As usual, the moment I had used my deductive powers to provide the Scotland Yarders the information they required, they simply relegated me to the sidelines–refusing me to further partake in their investigations. I presumed their sentiments stemmed from their primeval notions of the 'weaker sex'. I suppressed a snort and flexed the digits sticking out from my fingerless glove. If only they knew of the more unconventional powers at my disposal…

Well, even if they did, I suppose they'd never believe it. Afterall, they –and even my logician Uncle for that matter, remained in the shadows of England's preternatural society –the very society I belonged to.

The showroom clock began striking the hour. I stuffed the slip into my frock-coat and flattened myself against the woodwork. A frisson of anticipation coursed through me. My pulse sped up with each chime, and after the twelfth sounded, a heavy silence hovered in the air. I waited and waited, the seconds passing by at a glacial pace. Then, I heard it.

A tight knot formed in my chest as the rusted hinges of the showroom's undersized window screeched in the darkness, then stopped short, signaling a small, rat-like man had scrambled inside.

Light scuffs on the floorboard proceeded without an inkling of hesitation. The man's footsteps flitted past the diamonds, past the signet rings and opals, and then he stopped in his tracks, as though he finally found what he came here for.

He drew nearer, his tall shadow washing over my boots. I swore under my breath and shifted to the other side of the counter, but only to glimpse a pair of slender calves peeking out from a long skirt. I blinked. The silhouette in front of me didn't belong to a man at all but rather… a young woman.

Careful not to betray my presence, I rose from my hiding place. With her back to me, a teenage girl hovered over a nearby counter. Long, flaxen tresses spilled over the glass display in a disarray. Through her curtained hair, I caught her hand fishing out a delicate artifact out of its confines.

A diadem.

"I'd advise you to stop right where you are." I kept my voice soft as I sprang from the counter. "Else I'm afraid you'll be in for quite a vamp."

I positioned my hands strategically behind me, pointing at her through the fabric of my frock–coat, ready to defend or attack if warranted. But, to my surprise, the girl merely tilted her head at me in a cataleptic manner. With dull, amber eyes, her gaze locked with mine, and a vacant smile crept her lips.

A chill passed through me. "What the deuce you think you're doing?"

And just like that, she completely dismissed my words. I stared at her in disbelief as she returned to her plundering until a series of barks emerged in the distance. _The Scotland Yard terriers._

The moment I heard the barks, so did she. The young woman's expression morphed at once; her glazed eyes turned hard. " _A…dog?"_

She whirled to her side, looking at me full in the face. Her hands, now trembling, dropped the diadem with a clatter. She stormed past me to the doorway, but staggered backwards when a great hound poked its head through the entrance, bearing its teeth at her. I almost pitied her deplorable state until her gaze darted to the window.

"Don't be foolhardy," I whispered.

Of course, the girl didn't heed my words. She bolted like a frightened deer, her long dress swishing with every step. Just as her fingertips reached for the windowsill, I fixed my attention on the girl's ankles. I didn't want to resort to this, but I had little choice.

After stealing a glance around me, I stilled my face in concentration. The muscles in my fingers tightened, prickling with exhilaration. The tingles transformed into vibrations. Maintaining a controlled mind, I stared at her feet and felt the vibration of the swishing fabric become coherent with my own vibration.

Like a marionette to a puppeteer, the hem of the girl's dress came alive under my fingertip's command. The fabric slinked towards her ankles. If anyone witnessed this moment, no doubt, they'd attribute it to delirium or lunacy. I, however, considered such phenomena as natural as the physics tomes I perused in my spare time. Afterall, manipulating matter in this manner could be explained by the same principles. It was all a matter of adjusting frequency, phase, and amplitude of brainwaves through mental concentration and a focus point.

With a whorl of my finger, the fabric twisted around her calves like a snake and held her captive. The young lady froze. But before she could glance at her immobile feet, I seized my chance and brought her to the floor.

At that very moment, the two officials of Scotland Yard who had stood watch outside, burst through the entryway. I called off my enchantment at once.

Commissioner Delacourt, a burly, square faced official from Scotland Yard wasted no time in seizing the girl's arms while Inspector Lestrade, his lean, ferret-like colleague, struggled to cuff her squirming wrist. Once she was detained, Delacourt wheeled around to face me, his voice sharp as glass.

"What the devil are you doing here, Miss Valentine?"

My gaze drifted to the restive terriers that circled the Commissioner before I pointedly caught his eye. "I merely came to tidy up after the lumbering hounds."

Delacourt's face pinched. "You were strictly meant to find a lead, Miss Valentine _, not blooming follow it_."

The girl in his grasp let out a strangled plea. "U-unhand me. I s-swear to you I'm innocent."

Lestrade scoffed. "If we had a shilling for every time we heard that."

"B-but, it's true."

"Then why are you here, miss?"

"I don't know. I –I must...have sleepwalked." But as soon as the words left her mouth, the young lady stared at her laced shoes and crinolines, her cheeks deepening in color.

I casted her a disbelieving look. Surely, the girl could concoct a better story than that. If she was prepared to lie, she could, at the very least, make it a convincing one.

"In day slippers and attire?" Lestrade's voice dripped with skepticism. "State your name, miss."

The young woman's rose stained lips trembled. "Elizabeth Adler."

"And how did you bypass the main entrance's security measure?"

She stared at the window with worrisome eyes. "I…don't know."

"She entered through here." I pointed to the window in question and its broken lock. December air seeped through the crevice, submerging the room in a coldness that made my breath materialize. Just as I was about to shut out the irksome draft, something moved in the shadows. I took a jolting step forwards.

Delacourt's eyes narrowed. "Something the matter, Miss Valentine?"

I doubled checked past the window. All stood still once more. "No," I murmured. "Just some slipshod bat…"

I returned my attention to the Inspector who was wrapping up his generic line of questioning. Lestrade's eyes flickered to the diadem lying on the floor. "And now perhaps you'd care to explain the most important bit of all –why you attempted to embezzle this in the first place?"

Elizabeth appeared moments away from waterworks. "I-I told you. I didn't steal it. I don't know anything about the diadem–"

"Enough of this claptrap, Lestrade," said Delacourt. "It's nearing morning hours, and I have to be up at the academy tomorrow. Proceed with the arrest. Resume her questioning in the morning when she is feeling more cooperative."

"Yes, sir."

The Commissioner grabbed the leashes of the restless terriers and led them outside. The cold air stirred the back of my neck. I trailed the party from a distance, my eyes searching the alley. _Where the devil was he?_ And then the two terriers that flanked our party broke my thought. They released a growl, their leashes pulling taut.

The Commissioner's eyes darted to Lestrade. "Well, don't just stand there, you dolt –check it. I'll keep an eye on this one."

Lestrade grunted his assent as the hounds broke free. They tore through the streets, their feet thundering all the way to the back of the store. Lestrade sprinted after them, and then so did I, ignoring the Commissioner's distant protests. As we neared to the back end of the store, the barks intermingled with a chorus of moans. The hairs on my arm stood up. I hastened behind Lestrade's trail until he came to an abrupt stop. There, in front of us sat three men, bound and gagged, their colorless faces frozen with horror.

Recognition filled Lestrade's eyes. "Hold on just a moment. You lot are–"

"The French smugglers the Yard failed to arrest last month," I said –emphasis on _failed._

I removed one of the men's gags when he lunged forwards. I careened out of the way, as he violently grasped the Inspector's collar, through his chain-bounded hands. "Il avait un visage de bête comme!"

"Pull yourself together man!" Lestrade yanked his uniform free.

The man next to him quivered. "L-lesus naturae…m-monstre…Je l'ai vu un f-f-antôme avec un visage blanc…Il nous a a-attaqués." His voice trembled into silence though his eyes fixated on the alleyway.

"I beg your pardon," said the Inspector.

"A phantom." I squinted into the empty passage the man's gaze remained glued at. "They say a white faced phantom attacked them."

"Z-ze girl es right," said the smallest man in a thick French accent. "It vas h-horrible."

Lestrade snorted as he replaced the long, thin chain that bounded their wrists with handcuffs. "What poppycock."

From a distance, Delacourt came into view, with Elizabeth stumbling in front of him. "Heard all the commotion. Do you not have this under control–" He fell silent at the sight of the cowering men."Are they who I think they are?"

"Ay," said Lestrade. "I expect they were in cahoots with this young lady here, attempting to filch the diadem as another one of their smuggling operations."

"Is that so?" said Delacourt, flitting cold eyes over the French trio. "How unfortunate that their rendezvous finally ends here for them." He briefly glanced at Elizabeth. _"For all of them."_

"I swear I don't know any of them," she cried. "Please, sir, you have to believe me! I beg of you."

When she found no sympathy from the officials, she turned to me.

I scrutinized her bright, fervent eyes that fixed mine. "Perhaps we could reconsider her statement."

"If there even _was_ a statement to consider."

"But perhaps –"

"Miss Valentine," Delacourt said frostily. "While we are obliged to your small assistance with decoding the earlier telegram, I must ask you to stop with this insufferable interference, and leave the rest in our capable hands."

 _Insufferable interference?_

I balled my fist up as Lestrade headed inside the showroom to restore the diadem to its proper place. When he emerged outside and turned to leave with Delacourt, he paused. A resigned sigh escaped his lips.

"Though you shouldn't even have been here, Miss Valentine, seeing as it is rather late, are you in need of someone to accompany you back to the manor?"

I sniffed. "I am exceedingly grateful for your offer, Inspector, but my butler Felix shall see to it instead. I left him near the corner before I came here."

"Very, well," Lestrade said in a dismissive tone. "In that case, we'll take our leave, Miss Valentine. And take word not to foolishly interfere next time."

As usual, the Yard only took me seriously when it suited their agenda. I clicked my tongue and watched the little party fade in the distance. The girl stared at her cuffs, her face visibly perturbed, until they turned the corner. Only then did she chance a glance over her shoulder and beseech me, her lips mouthing a word so unmistakable.

 _Help._

Once she disappeared from sight, I returned inside the showroom and frowned to myself. Something about this simple thievery attempt was quite off. Pressing my fingers against the glass display, I committed the diadem to memory. Framed in silver, it was elegantly inlaid with a dozen tiny gems: diamond, sapphire, emerald, moonstone, amethyst, aquamarine, garnet, sardonyx, ruby, topaz, opal, and zircon.

Expensive though it was, it certainly wasn't the priciest item in the showroom, and Elizabeth Adler certainly wasn't in any need of coin. Her shoes had sported a most recognizable pattern—beige and brown stripes with quatrefoils, topped with the Louis Vuitton monogram, LV—and her evening dress came from another luxury brand, House of Worth. Moreover, her accent spoke of If my deductions proved correct, the young lady hailed from England's High Society and had no real need to engage in this petty sort of pilfering.

Then, _why_ did she engage?

I paused, my theorizing interrupted by a shadow that loomed behind me. It grew larger on the floor until it finally converged with my own.

"Well, you sure took your time."

I turned around. A tall, elegant young man eased in from the darkness, his pale face spotlit by a wisp of moonlight.

"I sincerely apologize for the delay, Miss Valentine," said Felix, dusting the shoulders of his butler uniform. "I had gotten a bit caught up eliminating the rats scurrying about. I trust I haven't missed anything of importance."

"Not particularly. Just some theft. It turned out to be some girl with a queer disposition who I fear might not be altogether there. She genuinely believes herself to be innocent despite the little fact I had caught her red-handed."

"Is that so? How curious."

"Yes…curious, though not as much as the scene that followed." I looked Felix straight in the eye and lowered my voice. "Three men, encumbered with restraints, bumbling like a pack of imbeciles. They all said some sort of horrid monster came upon them."

"A monster?" said Felix, his tone startled. "My, how frightful."

"Quite so. In any case…" I held up the long, thin chain that had bounded the men in place and deposited it into Felix's gloved hand. "I believe this belongs to you."

Felix chuckled as he reattached the chain back to his pocket watch. "I am much obliged, Miss Valentine."

My lips curled in a smile. "Come, Felix. Let us return to the manor. I've had enough staying awake at this ungodly hour–"

A deafening crash ripped through the air. I wheeled around, and panic frosted my skin. A blizzard of glass shards hurtled through midair. Before I could even think to shield my eyes, a band of steel encircled my waist. I grasped a fistful of Felix's long overcoat as he brought me to the floor. The glass showered down upon us, its discordant tinkling filling our ears. When all else tapered to silence, only the sound of my shallow breathing remained.

Felix hovered above me, his green eyes glowing with a radiance of their own as they bore into mine.

"What the dickens just happened?"

"It would appear that someone has just broken the showroom windows."

"Thank you for that scintillating input," I snapped.

"Pardon my simple answer for so simple a question," said Felix. "In any case, are you alright, Miss Valentine?"

Other than a nick on my finger, I was quite alright, but the weight on top of me was considerable. A prickle of self-consciousness washed over me. At once, I uncurled my fingers from Felix's lapels.

"A bit flattened…but otherwise, fine."

"I apologize for that, Miss Valentine. It slipped my mind how delicate you are."

I ignored the subtle mockery in his tone and eyed him tetchily as he rose to his full height, unscathed, and ruffled the glass shards out of his slightly mussed, dark hair. Then, noticing a tear in his glove, he heaved a sigh. "Rather remarkable how my attire never seems to stay intact whenever I'm around you for too long, Miss Valentine."

I curled my lip in distaste. "Surely, your clothes are used to such trifles by now." As I took his gloved hand, he paused, noticing the nick on my fingertip that trickled a line of crimson. "It's fine –"

"Let me see, Miss Valentine." His voice was smooth as silk as he took my hand in his. I flinched.

His long, sculpted fingers traced my skin, inspecting the mark. A sudden warmth flooded my hand followed by the coolness of his satin gloves. I stole a discrete glance at him, and my breath stilled. Felix's lips pursed taut; his dark eyes gleamed. Thinking it was my mere imagination, I narrowed my eyes for a closer look, but before I could be certain, he released my hand. The broken patch of skin was mended.

"There you are, Miss Valentine. Do be more careful next time."

Despite his customary manner, an odd lilt colored his tone. Dismissing my paranoia, I forced an unsteady nod and flitted past him to the shattered window. Retrieving a magnifying glass from my coat, I examined the windowsill, but found nothing apart from a long, flaxen hair—undoubtedly belonging to Elizabeth.

Sticking my head out the window, I squinted into the inky night skies when something –pink and fluttering –caught my attention. I picked up the bit from the cobblestone pavement and scrutinized it through the lens. A flower petal?

Stuffing it into my coat, I inspected the area once again to find something more of use. A hint of footprint, mud stain, the object that had broken the glass… _anything._

"There's nothing else here," I grumbled.

Felix didn't reply, his attention so honed on the glass shards littered around his feet. They cracked with each step of his polished shoes. When he bent under a counter, I gave a start. There, underneath a shard, lay a scrap of paper.

"How peculiar," Felix murmured.

"And what may I ask is so peculiar?"

"Perhaps you ought to see for yourself, Miss Valentine."

He held out the scrap to me, and my gaze swiveled at handwritten words on the front.

"That's...my name." I felt my brows crease as I stared at the handwritten words. _'Daphne Holmes Valentine_.'

"Indeed," said Felix in a low voice. "But _that_ is hardly the curious part."

When I turned over the scrap, I realized why.

 _'Dec 12th_

 _1325 205125718113. 791812 9141415351420. 2085 71135 919 16151520_

 _25152118 522518 231203862112 61895144,_

 _\- 7891011 12'_

Another blasted cipher.

I studied the string of numbers that followed today's date and tried to decrypt the first word, '1325'. If the numbers corresponded to the alphabets, 1=A, 3=C, 2=B, and 5=E. But upon spelling 1325 out, I realized my decryption proved incorrect –unless 'acbe' existed in the English dictionary.

I considered it again. Perhaps the message consisted of double digits as well. In that case, if '13' referred to 'M', and '25' to 'Y'…

 _My._

"Felix, a quill," I ordered.

Felix promptly retrieved one from his overcoat and watched me in silence as I marked up the paper like a tempest, fervently decoding word after word. In minutes, I had the entire message, save the last line.

"Well?" prompted Felix.

"She was telling the truth," I whispered darkly. "Someone is playing me, Felix. Take a look for yourself."

Felix leaned close, his irises glowing once more as he read the message aloud.

 _'Dec 12th_

 _My telegram. Girl innocent. The game is afoot._

 _Your ever watchful friend,_

 _-7891011 12'_

* * *

Author's Note: I'm a notorious outliner and follow a 40-50 outline I wrote for this story last yr. This story is a complex mystery with a romance subplot so that's where this fic is headed. Sherlock makes an appearance in later chapters. My goal in writing this was to create something unique, something that retained the typical Sherlockian elements (deductions, ciphers, chemistry, etc) but combined those with paranormal elements. In any case, do let me know what you think so far. Your reviews/feedback is always much appreciated ^^


	2. Carroms, Crumpets, and a Case

_Ch 2: Carroms, Crumpets, and a Case_

* * *

"Bring in the tea service," I ordered. "Make it strong."

"Yes, Miss Valentine."

Violet eyes reflected across the polished, wooden surface, glinting like chips of glass. The unsettling incidents from last night replayed in my mind: the fake warning telegram, the diadem, Elizabeth's queer behavior, the taunting cipher. Questions and theories swirled in my head, each making less sense than the other. I sighed and traced a finger across the carrom board –a gift Uncle Sherlock had received after solving a case for a Maharaja in Trivandrum. If only he was here…he'd easily connect the points of singularity…unlike me.

"I must say, your game is rather off today, Daphne."

I broke my concentration and glanced up at my cousin. French braid clutched to her chest, Josephine leaned over the billiard-like board, flicking another wooden coin into a pocket.

I stared at the lone coin on my side of the board, then the stack on hers. "A first time for everything I suppose."

"Might I propose a stake to motivate your spirits? If you win, I shall give you this." Josephine held up her wrist, revealing a charm bracelet dangling with a dozen precious stones. "However…if I am the victor, you are to accompany me tomorrow to a dress fitting for an upcoming masquerade ball."

"You know these sorts of outings aren't my cup of tea," I muttered. "Don't you have anyone else to tag along with?"

Josephine's face fell. "I _was_ going to ask my friends, Miyu and Michiru, but, neither of them showed up to the academy today. In any case…what do you say to my proposition?"

"I say it is a mighty considerate you to spring up a reward when you are already at such a vantage point in our game."

"Then you refuse?"

 _"_ _Hardly."_

A naïve smile on her lips, Josephine reached for the striker, when Felix strode through the doorway with the tea service.

"Your tea, Miss Valentine, Miss Lovelace." He wheeled in a trolley cart filled with sherry trifles, crumpets, scones, and the customary Twinning's tea. "Today's variety is a blend of Darjeeling, Ceylon, and Assam…" He paused as he gazed at my side of the board, no doubt taking note of my abysmal score. Then his attention drifted to the Queen in center, and a hint of amusement tinged his servile tone. "Perhaps I should return once you've have finished playing your games, Miss Valentine."

I sniffed. "That won't be necessary."

With the lesser valued coins surrounding the Queen pocketed by Josephine, I positioned the striker in the cleared path and struck hard. The striker glided across the board like a lynx slinking towards its prey. In one fluid move, our game had ended –the Queen was mine.

Josephine's lips went agape. Slipping her charm bracelet onto my wrist, I leaned into the pink damask settee as Felix handed me a teacup, filled to its brim. I inhaled the muscatel scent and hummed.

"I see it is to your liking, Miss Valentine." Felix retrieved the morning's paper from the bottom rack of the trolley cart. "Perhaps this would be an apt time to give you this."

Without another word, he dropped the newspaper on my lap. His eyes held mine, steady and impassive, watching me unroll the _Daily Telegraph_. With a forceful clink, I set the cup against the china, nearly splashing tea over the rim. I sat bolt upright in my seat.

A startled black and white face met mine, and underneath it, in stark, bold letters –a warrant for Elizabeth's arrest. My eyes flitted across the front page.

 _''_ _Elizabeth Adler, a third year at Bedales Academy, was caught amidst a band of smugglers in the act of thieving a diadem from Nottingham Jewelers. Fortunately, the attempt was prevented in the nick of time due to the estimable efforts of Commissioner Florian Delacourt and Inspector G. Lestrade of Scotland Yard.'_

My fingernails dented the paper, but I pressed myself to read on.

 _'_ _However, during her questioning, Adler refused to cooperate, asserting her innocence despite the mounting evidence she faces. She was then temporarily detained in a holding facility, but escaped soon after, baffling officials as the only key to her cell had not been taken. A small search party has been dispatched. If anyone has any knowledge on Adler's whereabouts, we urge you to come forth and contact the authorities immediately.'_

"Matters have gotten a touch more interesting, haven't they?" said Felix, taking back the paper.

"A touch perhaps. Still, to think all this fuss over some petty diadem..."

I frowned and reached for a scone off the cart, when Josephine made a brusque grab for it instead. She slathered a dollop of clotted cream on it, glowering at me as she assailed her pastry.

"Is the tea-service not your liking?" I said dully.

"Don't try to fool me, Daphne. You played me again. Just like one of your wretched games."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

 _"_ _Oh, twaddle."_ Josephine sprung from her seat with the fistful of coins I'd let her win and threw them over her shoulders onto the board.

"Watch it—" I started but froze as one of the thick, wooden coins made an odd tangent from her hand. It soared high into the air and plunged into my cup. I yelped, bracing myself for scalding drops of tea to splash my face. Oddly, they never came. I cracked a lid open. Smoky green orbs pinned my gaze.

My eyes darted to far end of the room Felix had stood seconds ago. "How the deuce did you–"

"Come now, Miss Valentine," he whispered, lowering his gloved hand from my chin. "You should well know that by now."

Finger by finger, he tugged off the tea-stained glove to reveal skin, smooth and flawless, pale as winter birch. He caught my wandering eye, and a ghost of a smile touched his lips. I veered my gaze away from him, just in time to hear a twinkling of a bell downstairs. The governess had arrived right on the clock.

Felix sighed, letting the glove drift to the table before taking his leave.

"I wish my parents employed someone like that," Josephine murmured once the door closed. "Hard to believe he's head butler at only one and twenty. Quite something, isn't he?"

"Yes… _something_."

Josephine collapsed back into her armchair and threw me a bitter look. I heaved a sigh. If Aunt Jovina caught wind of this little match, I'd receive quite the earful.

"Be here tomorrow 3 o'clock," I said, before I could change my mind. "We'll have the coachman take us to Madam Joliesse's Boutique. I presume that will make up for this trifle?"

Josephine forced a stiff nod, though her eyes glimmered with delight.

"In that case I shall you then. If you'll excuse me..."

I rose up from my seat, and after bidding Josephine good-bye, began readying the room for today's lesson. I drew the wide-opened drapes close at once, submerging the room in shadows. If any outsiders caught a glimpse of us, it'd be quite the spectacle to explain.

I had barely taken my seat when the door flew open.

"Good morning, Daphne," came a sing-song voice.

Miss Callista ambled in, almost tripping over herself. Her mussed, auburn ringlets danced over her shoulder with each step, and the faint smell of brandy lingered from her. The governess, however, appeared oblivious to her state of unseemliness. She simply smiled at me through her chalky make up.

I sighed. "Do I dare ask, Miss Callista?"

"If you must know, I just landed a teaching position after meeting a _charming_ older gentleman near the pub –ahem, public library." She turned a shade of red as she caught my disapproving eye and changed the subject. "I take it you practiced the Geminis spell from our previous lesson?"

One by one, I began pulling an array of besmirched gloves from my skirt pockets.

"Well, well, I see you've replicated these quite nicely. You've even gotten the splotches of tea on the identical position." Callista traced her hand along a long, slender finger. " _Rather nice pair of hands they belong to..."_

Upon noticing my less than warm expression, the governess blushed and regained her dignity. "Ah, perhaps we should move to something interesting today – _Scrying_. But first, you must draw a map of Valentine manor."

"A map of my own home?" I lifted an eyebrow as Callista rummaged through her muddled knapsack and stuffed a sheet of parchment into my hand without explanation. As I began drawing up the manor, I watched her fish out more artifacts from the bag: spell books, tarot cards, quills, a half-filled tankard of gin, more parchment, and then, with fumbling fingers, she pulled out a crystal attached to a silver filigreed string.

"I want you to dangle this over the map you've just drawn, Daphne. But as you do, channel a detailed image of the manor to your mind's eye. You shall soon see why."

Eyes closed, I dangled the winter blue crystal over the map of the manor until the pendulum motion came to a halt. Then slowly, the images took form. The French rococo styled rooms, the delicate gilded furnishings and fresco ceiling inspired from the Chateau de Versailles, the marble bathrooms that gleamed like melted chocolate and vanilla. Envisioning every nook and cranny, I let the images in my mind interconnect with the map in my hand.

"Now concentrate on a personal belonging," she instructed. "If you've scryied correctly, the crystal shall reveal to its location on the map."

Anticipation thrummed through my chest. Now, here was a skill that could well serve to my vantage point. I withdrew into my mind, envisioning a stack of manuscripts on my study desk. After a few uneventful moments passed by, the governess clicked her heels.

"I take it, you _are_ trying, Daphne?"

Flinching at her bruising words, I concentrated with greater intensity on the manuscripts. When a dull ache began behind my eyes, I chanced a peek. _Damnation. Still nothing._

"Are you quite positive this thing isn't defective, Miss Callista?"

"I am fairly certain the crystal is not what is defective."

My cheeks burned.

Callista sighed, touching my slumped shoulders. "Forgive me, Daphne. Sometimes it slips my mind that you are still a coming of age enchantress. For some enchantresses, full fruition of power comes around the age of eighteen. Still… I had thought something like this would be well within your grasp. I wonder…" Callista scrutinized me in silence, a finger propped to her chin.

"Perhaps," she began, "the item you are thinking does not hold much significance to you. The stronger the connection to the object, the stronger the crystal will react to your will. Can you not think of such a thing?"

"Allow me to try once more."

This time I had no intention of concentrating upon a mere object. I threw my hair back. Emerald blazed behind my eyes. Then came a dark silhouette…pale upturned lips…and a beautiful visage which concealed something unsightly. There was no doubt I held strong sentiments towards Felix –whether good or bad, well, that was another matter entirely.

Callista whispered, "It's moving,"

Indeed it was. The crystal swung around the map and traced a diagonal line along the staircase. Then, without warning, it jolted me forwards, pulling taut. The crystal stood on end at the main entrance. My breath caught, and the connection between my thoughts and the map broke. The crystal fell back.

"Felix…"

From my Scrying, it was clear. Felix was opening the front entrance of the manor at this very moment. Hardly a few seconds went by when a rap sounded the door.

"Miss Valentine," Felix spoke in a quiet voice, "you have company."

"Who?" I said sharply.

"Commissioner Delacourt from Scotland Yard…and someone else."

I stared hard at the closed door. _What was that glock doing here?_ "I see. In that case, please see the governess out, and prepare some tea service. I will be downstairs momentarily."

"As you wish."

Concern knitted the governess's brows, but she reluctantly took her leave. Then, gathering all the enthusiasm I could muster, I clambered downstairs, following Felix's smooth, cordial voice drifting from the parlor.

Forcing a pleasant face, I threw open the parlor curtains to find not one, but two men seated under the chandelier. "Commissioner, how delightful to see you twice in one day."

Delacourt rose from the Queen Anne armchair and contorted his face into a _smile_ , which looked rather _painful_. "My sentiments as well, Miss Valentine."

Lowering my lids, I stared at the gold plated watch that adorned his right hand, his navy coat-frock, and satin cravat tied around his thick neck, atypical of his usual Scotland Yard garb. "Not on duty today?"

"No. I only work part-time at the Yard these days. Have a new post, you see– headmaster of an international academy I've recently acquired."

He paused, as if waiting for my congratulatory response, but instead, I shifted my attention to the oriental man on his right. "I see you've brought company."

"This here is Mr. Takeuchi, an associate of mine accompanying me on errand. He comes from the Japanese Village in Knightsbridge."

I nodded, well familiar with the quaint village located in the heart of bustling London. With its Japanese Tea Houses and Buddhist temple, the village had an exotic appeal which garnered visitors all over England. Despite the zen-like state it boasted, the thin framed Japanese man possessed not an ounce of it.

I cast a quick glance over him. Mismatched buttons on tweed, fingernails bitten down to nubbins, wan-faced, sunken and red rimmed eyes. Having made my assessment, I gestured the gentlemen back to their seats. It appeared I had found myself in something rather interesting.

"So what brings you here this time, Commissioner? Were your hounds not able to track Elizabeth Adler?"

"Save your breath, Miss Valentine, I do not come to you with such trifles. I was merely in the area and came to drop off some paperwork." The Commissioner curtly handed me a document. "It concerns matters from last night."

I scanned the document. It contained an eye-witness account regarding Elizabeth's arrest, but nothing of urgency. I motioned Felix for a pen and began writing.

An uncomfortable silence soon befell the room, punctuated with the occasional scratch of pen to paper and Delacourt's restless tapping. As if sensing this was a good time to bring in the elevenses, Felix bowed and excused himself from the room.

The Commissioner cleared his throat. "I have heard from social circles that _The White Rabbit_ is on the rise, I expect it must be most taxing for a young lady to manage a publishing company."

"Being a young lady has nothing to do with it, Commissioner."

"Er, yes, of course. Is your brother still apprenticing at Dartmoor's Conservator–"

"Yes."

"Are your parents –"

"Abroad."

I narrowed my vision at him, and at once, the muscles in his face tensed. No one spoke, and the atmosphere grew stiff, almost oppressive, until Felix returned with a three-tier platter stacked with blackberry mascarpone tarts, tea sandwiches, and leftover crumpets.

"I must say these look rather palatable, Miss Valentine." Delacourt brought a crumpet up to his eye-glass and pretended to examine the spun sugar atop. "My deepest compliments to your chief."

Felix bowed. "Your compliments are well received, sir."

"So it's you who made this." He turned from Felix to me. "I see you've acquired an exceptional butler with exquisite tastes, Miss Valentine."

Felix's eyes seemed to glow with humor.

"Yes…very _exquisite_ tastes."

"Of course," said Delacourt. "I suppose that should be expected when one visits the distinguished Valentine manor–"

"I confess I'm not particularly fond of toadying, Commissioner – _or stalling."_

Delacourt fumbled with the cup of Bergamot Felix had just poured him. "Pardon?"

"Do not try to gammon me, Commissioner." I leaned forwards and intertwined my fingers under my chin. "I doubt this courtesy visit is to merely drop off menial paperwork or assess my butler's culinary talent. Pray tell, what is the real reason for your visit?"

All of a sudden, Mr. Takeuchi jumped. His mouth teetered on speech and his body began shaking as if some paroxysm of hysteria had seized him. Finally, he stood up and lost his composure altogether; he yanked a mound of black hair in a violent fit.

 _"_ _Miyu!"_ he screeched. _"Michiru!"_

I froze. Those names... _Josephine's friends._

The man let out a loud, pitiable wail and bellowed the names over and over again until Felix pushed the man back into his seat in one fluid move.

"Pray, do compose yourself, sir."

"I think I shall speak on Mr. Takeuchi's behalf seeing he is in no condition to do so himself." Delacourt's face tempered like steel as though he had swallowed the last remnants of his pride. "As you've guessed, there is another reason for this visit. I fear there is no easy way to ease into this delicate matter, but the state of affairs at Imperial International Academy has been most _pressing_ as of late. It concerns some of the students at the academy…namely, our daughters." Delacourt clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white. "We think that they're…they're –"

"T-they're g-gone," Mr. Takeuchi finished hoarsely.

I flashed my eyes at the duo. "What do you mean gone?"

A shadow crept the Commissioner's face. "It all began last night, after Elizabeth Adler's arrest. When I returned to my estate, my daughter Isabelle, also an academy student, was nowhere to be seen. She had a small row with me earlier that day so naturally, I thought she had went over to a friend's house to cool off. However, today when she still never showed up at the estate or the academy, my fears started to take seed."

He paused, a hard line appearing between his _eyebrows._ "I was shortly notified by Mr. Takeuchi this morning when he had come to pick up his daughters, Miyu and Michiru, from the academy dormitory, they did not answer his call. Upon seeing the door locked, we had no choice but to force it open. There, we found a shattered window, packed belongings, and the young ladies – nowhere to be found."

"Any signs of struggle?" I inquired.

Mr. Takeuchi paled. The Commissioner drew in a deep breath and continued. "We found their books and uniforms scattered across the floor, broken glass on top of everything. Clearly, some intruder broke in and ransacked the place, though it didn't seem like anything was taken."

"Any other points of singularity?"

"Well, other than a small spool of thread found outside their door, none."

"A bobbin, you say?" I pressed forwards in my seat. "Was there anything else unusual?"

The Commissioner shook his head, but Mr. Takeuchi pursed his mouth.

"I fear it may not be worth mentioning, but I found this on Miyu's dresser." He brandished a pink flower from his pocket, a white tag of ' _7-12_ ' attached its stem.

Felix's eyes glowed faintly, unnoticed by everyone except me. I stared darkly at the flower until the Commissioner's jarring voice broke my thoughts.

"It is clear there is some hidden machination in the works and our daughters for some reason have been targeted. If nothing is done soon, I fear more girls in the academy will be targeted in this peculiar manner."

"Do you have any ideas who might want to sabotage your Academy, Commissioner?"

"Surely not. Just the mere idea of that is unfathomable. I have no enemies, you see."

"Everyone has enemies, Commissioner." I crossed my leg and fixed his gaze. "Even the most principled of men are bound to possess a few. Afterall, one can easily assess the character of a man by the types of enemies he has acquired in life. It is a rare circumstance to not have even a single enemy –unless of course, you've been living the dull life of an ass."

Delacourt's face flashed scarlet.

I waved a hand at the headmaster. "Pardon my rag manners, Commissioner, but you really can't think of a single person who'd benefit from the disgrace of your academy?"

"I don't think there is…unless you consider Madame Drusilla Blackwood, the headmistress of Bedales Academy."

"The academy Elizabeth Adler is from?" I said, recalling the morning's newspaper.

"The very one." He exchanged a dark look with me. "I met the headmistress of Bedales at the Emeritus Teaching Assembly some months ago. When I told her I had secured an old building to renovate into an all girls school, the woman's demeanor shifted from cordial to cold. However, to be fair, she reached out to me recently to arrange some sort of masquerade ball at Imperial Academy where students of both schools engage with one another. Of course, I agreed to this, seeing as it'd help the camaraderie between the two schools flourish and put any petty rivalry aside."

I lowered my lids. "And what exactly does the Yard make off all of this?"

"They, er, know nothing of the matter."

"And why is that?"

"Well, you see, being a member of Scotland Yard, I have come to find that perhaps the Yard's methods are a bit, er, lacking."

"You flatter me, Commissioner, but surely that is not the real reason why you come to me."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Come now, Commissioner. You know better than anybody that Scotland Yard has a propensity to make their investigations known to the public." I pointed to nearby newspaper with last night's break in. "If you involved the Yard, I expect you'd find the news of your academy in every single newspaper by morning, which I expect would create bad publicity for a school you've only recently acquired."

The Commissioner's fingers knotted like a cord. "It's...the enrollments. If word of these disappearances were made public, no doubt, we'll be forced to shut our doors. I need a private consulting detective –truth be told, Mr. Takeuchi and I visited your Uncle's quarters on Baker Street just before arriving here. Unfortunately, Mrs. Hudson, the landlady informed us Holmes is still away, under the request of some director at the Royal Louvre Museum in Paris. Hence, I can only hope you'll be able to shed some light on matters when you come down to the academy to investigate."

"Commissioner, I never said I would accept your case."

Delacourt blinked. "Surely, I heard wrong. For a moment I thought you said–"

"You heard right. I fear I may not the best person to help you. My interference, as you've made it very clear last night, is _insufferable_."

His eyes steeled. "For once your blasted interference is welcomed. Do you not care that Imperial Academy will go to ruins?" His voice shook. "And what of my Isabelle?"

Before I could reply, he roughly drew out a fat coin bag from his coat pocket and threw it in front of me.

At the sight of the bribe, an involuntary laugh escaped my lips. Mr. Takeuchi and Felix's eyes flared in surprise; Delacourt simply stared at me, his face writ with alarm…and then outrage. His fists shook, his wristwatch flying to the floor.

"H-how dare you mock my plight. You act as if this is all some game to you!"

Dismissing his remarks, I tossed the bag back to him. "The Yard would be disappointed if they saw their colleague act in this manner. Keep your money, Commissioner. Material rewards do not interest me."

"Then…what is it that you want?"

"Truthfully, sir there is nothing I want from you." I pressed my fingertips together. "The reward is in the work itself."

He paused. "Does that mean you accept the case?"

I stared long and hard at the watch strewn across the floor, then sighed. "There are a few pressing matters of my own I must attend to first, Commissioner, but I suppose I shall come down to your academy tomorrow evening and conduct a brief investigation."

The headmaster released a deep sigh and regained himself. "Thank you, Miss Valentine. It is some relief to here that."

With that, I escorted him and a shaken up Mr. Takeuchi to the main entrance path. The moment the duo slipped into the waiting carriage, the door slammed shut without my touch, blowing my hair backwards.

 _"_ _Miss Valentine,"_ Felix chided, "you know well enough you're not supposed to use enchantment for such trifles."

I stormed back to the parlor and fingered the Commissioner's watch off the Persian carpet. "Afterall all the cases I solved for that ingrate at the Yard, how does he thank me? The muttonhead goes off and lands himself in one. Such a pain in the ars–"

Felix clapped his gloved hands together. " _Language,_ Miss Valentine. As your personal butler who promised your parents I'd see to you becoming a proper lady in their absence, I cannot have you spewing coarse words about a guest –even if it is deserved."

"Sorry," I muttered.

Felix searched my face and lifted a brow. "Quite a show you put on. Most unusual of you not to accept a case outright."

"Given all the points of singularity, it is not prudent to delve headfirst in a case as convoluted as this." I walked over to the window and pressed my hand against the cold glass. Violet eyes reflected at me, dark and calculating. "That bobbin found outside the dorm door…"

"Can easily lock a door from the outside," finished Felix. "One merely needs to affix the latch using a threaded needle, run the thread under the door and pull it out from the outside –leaving behind a locked door with no fingerprints. It is somewhat of a cliché trick in those mystery novels you often read, Miss Valentine."

"Indeed," I said darkly. "But the perpetrator isn't trying to write a novel –more like, trying to create a ruse. That ruse becomes even more apparent if you introduce the shattered window into the mix. The Commissioner and Mr. Takeuchi noticed glass pieces on top of the girls' ransacked knickknacks. Had the glass been _underneath_ , it would indicate an intruder broke the window, thus spilling glass on all the objects, _then_ ransacked the place. However, if the glass pieces were found _on top_ of all the items, it becomes quite suggestive the culprit only made the place look ransacked, then broke the window. In other words, a poorly staged a break-in, wouldn't you say?"

"Quite so, but I daresay you aren't being completely honest, Miss Valentine. That little ploy isn't the real reason you didn't accept the case outright."

Felix held my gaze with a quiet intensity, as if he could see right to my core. I shuffled my feet.

"I am sure you've noticed as well as I, Miss Valentine. The other _singular_ points –one of them being this." Felix retrieved the flower off the table and twirled it idly by its stem. "The inscription in the sender tag, ' _7-12'_ is nothing more than 7-8-9-10-11-12 expanded, coincidentally matching the numerical signature _7891011 12_ from last night."

"There is no coincidence about it –the cases are connected. The flower matches the pink petal I found at the showroom last night. But even more than that… " I stood in front of Felix and looked him full in the face.

His eyes darkened at me as I reached for his gloved hand.

"This flower is a rather rare winter blooming shrub known as _Winter Daphne_. From that matters are quite clear. Someone somewhere is challenging me to a game."

"What do you intend to do about it, Miss Valentine?" he whispered.

A Cheshire smile crept my lips. "Well, I intend to play the game, of course."

Felix chuckled and knelled, taking my hand in his. "In that case, I shall be the Queen's pawn and knight." His upturned face met mine, emerald orbs glistening. "Until I hear the word - _checkmate_."


End file.
